


Us Kids

by theplacebo_effect



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Shameless Big Bang
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 12:58:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2389064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theplacebo_effect/pseuds/theplacebo_effect
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the worst blizzard to hit the Chicago area leaves the majority of the city powerless, the Milkovich siblings, along with Karen Jackson, are stranded at the Gallagher house. Most of them only know each other through mutual relationships or by reputation. Boredom eventually leads to drinking and playing fourth grade party games. In a breakfast club like scenario, the group discusses problems in their own lives, mostly stemming from their fathers. By the end of the night the group will either become best friends or worst enemies. Either way, what is done in the dark will continue to affect them in the light of day, whether they realize it or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Milkoviches

“Good afternoon, if you’re just joining us we have more on the developing snow storm hitting the Chicago area. The public has been advised to stay indoors…” The anchorman’s cheery voice trailed off.  
“Rise n fuckin’ shine shitface,” Mandy’s older brother chucked a pillow at her face. “It’s almost three.”  
“Fuck off Mickey.” She angrily marched to the small bathroom her whole family shared.  
As she looked into the mirror she whispered, “Jesus.” Yesterday’s thick make up had smeared and left dark circles under both her eyes. Mickey’s insult made more sense as she looked herself over. Her hair had matted together where her head met the pillow. The events of the last night began piecing together. There had been a lot to drink. The last glimpse of her phone had been around four in the morning. She threw her hair into a ponytail and rinsed her face, careful to leave some makeup to work with.  
There were several quick pounds to the door, “Hurry the fuck up!”  
She pounded back in the same harsh pattern as her brother. “Just fucking wait!” Under breath she continued to whisper obscenities.  
When she finally pushed through Mickey to get to her room he yelled, “about time!”  
She slid on pants and layered her black jacket over a grey hoodie. She was halfway to the front door when she heard a loud thud followed by the sound of glass breaking. He’s up.  
“What the fuck was that?” A harsh laugh escaped her lips at just how naïve Mickey was. Who else would it be but Terry. She guessed the thud was his thick body rolling off the bed, too lazy and too drunk to civilly get up. The glass was more difficult. She predicted he had kicked his emptied bottles from the night before as he walked. Or maybe he had thrown them against the wall in a burst of outrage.  
Either way she did not want to stick around to find out.  
“Hey where you going?” Mickey’s hand pressed into Mandy’s shoulder causing her to spin around. There was something she had not seen in Mickey’s eyes for a long time: fear.  
“Out.” She spun around to leave.  
“Yeah no shit.” He rolled his eyes.  
Letting out an annoyed sigh she answered, “I’m heading to the Gallagher’s.”  
As he spoke he gestured with the piece of toast he held. “To hang out with what’s his face? You know, the redhead?”  
“Ian. Yeah, beats this place.” They stood in silence contemplating their situation.  
The wooden floors were far from shining and the walls chipped under the weight of the roof. The decrepit house seemed worse with Terry in it.  
“You wanna come?” He slid his thumb over his lips. There was another loud crash of glass against the wall, this one sounded closer than before.  
“Fuck.” He wanted to avoid Terry in a drunken stupor just as much as Mandy, maybe even more. “Yeah, beats this shit.” He tried to hide the shaking in his voice, but he fooled neither of them.  
The two siblings rushed out before their sham of a father could notice them leaving. Some siblings are born close and others develop it out of necessity. Unfortunately their relationship was the second kind, although both of them denied any closeness at all.  
The snow that covered the sidewalk spilled over into the streets, leaving the roads empty.  
Mickey lit a cigarette, using his palm to block any wind. “Where the fuck is everybody?”  
The memory of the weather man’s voice was hazy but just enough for Mandy to answer, “Think there’s supposed to be a blizzard or some shit heading this way. News says to stay inside.”  
“Why the fuck didn’t you say somethin’ earlier?” Eyebrows raised, he stopped and for a second thought of turning around. The cold made even the run down house seem appealing.  
“I wasn’t about to stay home with that prick. It’s not even snowing right now, we’ll just hurry.”  
By the time they had made it to the Gallagher’s house, snow had begun swirling around them. They could barely see a few feet in front of their own shoes.  
“It’s fuckin’ freazing. Hurry and knock on the door.” Mandy did as he said but could hardly feel her fingers against the wood.  
A few moments later, a sleepy Ian in red plaid pajama bottoms came to the door. He yawned as he put on a raggedy band t-shirt.  
“’Bout time Gallagher.” Mickey grunted as he pushed his way past Mandy and Ian, careful not to brush against him, and into the house. He kicked off his icy shoes and sunk into the couch.  
The sight of Ian’s muscular chest had sent all kinds of electricity through Mickey’s body. He avoided eye contact.  
“Yeah sure, come on right in.” Ian sarcastically mumbled under his breath, “It’s not like I was sleeping or anything.”  
“Oh, no, we could tell from the bed head.” Mandy tousled his hair with her palm while he loosely wrapped an arm around the small of her back. They had become accustom to harmless play, something many attributed to flirting, the very assumption that formed in Mickey’s mind.  
“Can you two knock that shit off, you’re making me sick.” Jealousy pooled underneath his skin causing his pale cheeks to burn a bright red. It was almost too unbearable to watch.  
Both knowing nothing could ever happen between them, they looked at each other, stifling laughter until they could no longer hold it in.  
“What the fuck you laughing at?” Cleary irritated, both by Ian’s affection towards his sister and being left in the dark, Mickey stood up.  
Ian’s laughter trailed off while Mandy’s grew louder. “Calm down douchebag, we’ll ‘knock it off.’” She shot one last knowing glance at Ian before falling into the couch. She left an empty space for Ian in between her and her brother.  
He stood by the small entrance that led into the living room, too stunned to move. What started as fear of the notorious Mickey Milkovich, morphed into something else. Longing. He imagined himself plopping into the open seat. Maybe the freckled skin of his arm would brush against the pale skin of Mickey’s. Maybe Mandy would leave, grab a snack or use the bathroom. Maybe, sensing the air, she would dismiss herself, approving their unspoken connection. Nervous at first, they would laugh over stupid things, a dumb joke on the screen or their own small talk. But eventually their eyes would meet followed by their eager lips and wandering hands.  
“Ian? Hey Ian.” Mandy had thrown a crumpled candy wrapper at his red hair, but he still had not noticed.  
“Do you know what the fuck this is?”  
“I don’t know Mick, I’ve never seen him do this before.” She lobbed a larger wad at him hitting his face this time. He snapped back to the present with a quick shiver.  
Of course that’s not how it would go. If he was lucky Mickey would at least speak to him. If Mandy did approve, which Ian doubted she would, nothing would happen anyways. Mickey, for all Ian knew, was interested in the opposite sex.  
“What was that for?”  
“Are you serious?” Mandy’s lip pulled up in one corner as she stared in astonishment. “You’ve been spaced out for five minutes now.”  
Of course she was exaggerating, but he suddenly felt exposed standing alone for however long it was. Blood rose to the surface of his freckled cheeks, partly from his awkwardness and partly from the absurdity of his own thoughts.  
“Oh, my bad.” His voice trailed off as he sat in between the two Milkovichs.  
“Jesus.” Mickey breathed, bringing a beer to his lips. Ian ached for just one kiss to see how soft they must feel.  
Mickey’s warmth radiated out into the empty spaces. Ian wished they could nestle into each other. Mickey’s shoulder ever so slightly brushed against the base of his own. When he shifted away the spot burned a whole in Ian’s skin.  
It was nowhere near what he hoped for, but for now Ian thought, this was good enough.


	2. French Roullete

"Let's play spin the bottle." Karen grinned and finished the last drop of her beer. No one wanted to share the large couch with her and Lip, leaving Mandy and Ian squished on a recliner made for one. Mickey sat across from them, thankful he was not forced to be pressed against Ian. He did not think he could resist tracing the veins in his arms.   
"I'll go first." She blew kisses at Lip who playfully rolled his eyes.  
"Do we look like we're in the fucking fifth grade?" Mickey protested. He meant it, but he felt a stir of hope as he looked toward Ian sitting a few feet away.   
"Oh lighten up. It’s not like you have any bright suggestions."   
Mickey began to get up, but Mandy leaned over and interrupted, "I agree with Blondie this time, I'm so bored." She flashed a dirty look at Karen, who just smiled.   
"We have ourselves a game!" She happily squealed and strategically spun the bottle on the wooden foot rest. To no one’s surprise it landed on Lip. "Lucky me" he smiled as Karen climbed onto his lap. Their slow kiss turned into an obvious French kiss. Mandy’s stomach turned and she felt the little she had eaten begin to come up. She turned away.   
"Dude Lip, come on, my eyes are burning." Ian stuck his hand out to cover his brother. Lip flipped him off, never breaking their kiss.   
Mandy snatched the bottle from the table, slightly startling them. "My turn." She spun the glass, secretly hoping it would land on Lip. She realized he had been the reason she agreed to play this stupid game in the first place. She felt stupid, as if Karen would let her kiss her boyfriend in front of her. Pathetic. The whole situation, this game, the faulty lines, and of course herself.   
The bottle stopped on the other Gallagher.  
Karen loudly giggled in between oohs and awes.   
"You know he's gay?" Lip whispered. Mickey had caught their words and questioned everything he had seen between them. Mandy would talk about Ian as if he were the best person in her world. He questioned his sister's claims a few months back. Aren’t they dating?  
Mandy did not mind, she had kissed Ian before — a clever ruse to keep him safe from the other kids at school. In this part of the neighborhood a person could be beaten up for anything, and unfortunately being gay was on top of the list.   
It was true however, that she had had a crush on him since junior high, and a part of her had taken advantage of playing his girlfriend. But it had slowly and quickly turned into a loving friendship, one she would come to lean on through the worst times.   
She looked over at Ian beside her, his freckled cheeks slightly blushing and his eyes flickering towards her then, to her surprise, Mickey. There was something different. She pictured the last times that had kiss, most of the time in front of people at school and in front of her friends – to keep up their story. He never seemed as uncomfortable as he did now.  
Then it clicked.   
Ian saw Mandy connecting the dots, understanding his feelings toward Mickey, but before she could say anything, Karen began speaking again. He hadn't had the chance to tell her himself yet and wanted to wait when until they were alone. "Hurry up you two!" She had her phone out and ready to snap a picture.   
"Fuck off." Mandy managed before leaning into Ian and slowly kissing his waiting. Ian was taken back. It had been a long time since their last impromptu kiss.   
"You kids are sweet." Karen teased. "Ian, it's your turn."   
He took the glass bottle, palms sweating. He definitely did not want to kiss Karen and he wasn't sure he could kiss Mandy again. Especially not in front of Mickey, whose fingers noticeably paled under the pressure from clenching the arm rest. That’s strange, he thought. He resorted to the “protective brother” archetype, not realizing the pain it was causing Mickey.   
"You ok man?" Lip stared at his brother.  
"Hmm? Oh yeah I'm fine." He spun the bottle and tightly shut his eyes.   
The room went silent. 

Mickey was the first to speak.  
"Fuck no, spin again."   
Before even opening his eyes he had known the bottle had landed on Mickey Milkovich.   
"Nope, you have to, it's the rules." Karen flashed her pearly white teeth, the kind of smile that promised trouble but at the same time invited you in.   
"Fuck the rules then, I ain't doing it."   
"Too fucking bad. Don't be such a baby." The other three watched as they went back and forth, too nervous to interrupt.   
"Mickey it's not a big deal." Ian offered while unconsciously leaning towards him.  
"Hey hey," Mickey stretched his arms out in protest and to keep Ian at a safe distance. "Kiss me and I'll cut your fucking tongue out."   
"Ouch, somebody's a bit defensive." Karen smugly smiled, pearly whites exposed like a snake about to strike.   
Eyebrows raised in anger, he turned to Karen, "Stay the fuck outta this, ain't your business."   
"Just get it over with Mickey, you're holding up the game." Mandy casually looked over her nails pretending to be bored. In reality, she impatiently waited for Lip's turn to spin. She also sensed something in Mickey, even though he ardently protested she felt he really wanted to.   
“Tell red to spin again, ‘cause I ain’t doing it.” Arms crossed he sunk into his chair. He figured he must have looked about five right now. There was that gnawing again. Disappointment.   
“Fine.” Disappointed himself, Ian spun again. Please don’t be Karen he begged the invisible force that kept the bottle spinning.   
“You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me.”   
“It’s so meant to be.” Karen laughed, and Mandy could not help but laugh too. What were the chances of it landing on Mickey twice.   
Together the girls began pushing them to hurry.   
“Mick, the quicker we umm…yeah…the quicker they’ll shut up.”   
Mickey was surprised how much Ian’s words calmed him. He thought it over. There was no one here who would hurt him, just a bunch of drunk kids. They probably would not even remember any of this the next morning. What would be the harm of kissing Ian if no one remembers, he thought. There was no way of loosing.   
With eyebrows raised he asked, “This will never leave the room?”   
“Cross our hearts.” Karen motioned an X over her chest with a fresh beer. A couple of drunk kids.  
“Fine, I’ll do it.” Mickey’s voice was so quiet Ian thought he imagined it.   
Since it was his spin, Ian felt he should be the one to go over to Mickey. He also didn’t think Mickey could make it.  
As the space closed between them, Mickey’s eyes flickered about the room: the candles, the others in the room, the sea of kid’s toys, the empty beers laying around, a ash tray filled with cigarettes, anything but Ian.   
Soon enough there was nowhere else to look. He could start to feel the warmth of Ian’s presence in the cold room. The mix of temperature sent a strange sensation under his skin. He swallowed. Eager lips.


	3. Bait

“Dude you guys are adorable.”Karen’s sing song voice always prevented anything from sounding serious and always came off mockingly. Even when she meant it. Neither of the boys said anything. Ian stumbled back to his seat, blaming the darkness for his clumsiness. “Sure lover boy.” Mandy whispered loud enough for only Ian to hear. “Well that was beautiful, but can we move on.” Lip clapped his hands together looking towards Mickey. The kiss had left him light headed and the room seemed to spin, but the gnawing feeling had dimmed to a faint prick every now and then. “Uh Mickey, it’s your turn buddy.” Lip motioned towards the bottle. “What no, I’ve already kissed a dude, I think that counts for two.” The group looked at each other. No one was dumb enough or brave enough to continue pushing Mickey. Everyone except Karen. “Oh come on.” Mickey looked lost in thought. “Fine, I’ll spin for you.” Karen sloppily let the bottle go. It slowed to a stop on Mandy. “This is a sick fuckin’ game! Seriously, I ain’t doing this anymore.” Deciding to let it go she turned to Lip. “Fine, it’s your turn then.” Karen gave her boyfriend the bottle and a quick kiss. “Um Mandy.” Ian gently nudged her arm. She was too scared to watch. When she lifted her eyes she was met with a vicious smile and a nervous Lip. “Well go ahead.” Karen taunted, dangling Lip in front of her, only to eventually snatch him back. They both awkwardly stood up, deciding to meet halfway. Mandy said something that made Lip laugh. As the tension melted away their lips meshed together. In the dark no one saw Lip’s hand gently resting on her hip.


	4. Daddy's Girl

Wax spilled over its small containers, pooling on the table and floor and hardening into new shapes. Had any of their parents resembled adults capable of raising another human they might be wondering where their child was.   
“What would I do for a million bucks?” Ian’s eyebrows knit together in thought, shrugging after wrestling with Karen’s question. “I guess, the least possible.”  
“Whatever, that’s no fun.” Mandy pushed a palm into his side. “It has to be worth a million dollars, something you wouldn’t normally do, like I don’t know…become a stripper or somethin’ like that.” She laughed at the thought of Ian wearing tight shorts and fluidly moving his hips.   
The room filled with Ian’s laughter at such a ridiculous idea, but Mickey could not keep himself from picturing it.   
He imagined Ian’s toned body glistening with sweat under the flashing lights of some club. He would run his hands down his muscular torso, stopping at the edge of his golden shorts. With his hand tightly around his neck, Ian would pull him closer until their bodies touched. Lights would gleam around them as they closed the remaining space between their lips, the beat of the club’s music keeping time with his racing heart.   
“Would it help if your cliental included all males?” Karen laughed, showing her glistening teeth.   
Ian uncomfortably shifted in his seat when his eyes met Mickey’s. He wondered if Mickey already knew the answer, after all they had just kissed. Mickey cracked his knuckles.   
He leaned back and placed his palms on his knees. “You know what, I have nothing to be ashamed of. Almost all of you already know anyways. I’m gay.” Somewhere in the midst of his words he had stood up. Finished with his proclamation, he sat down. “So to answer your question, yeah, yeah I’d do it.” He let out a sigh of relief, then almost daringly, looked at Mickey.   
Admiration and disappointment sickly twisted together in Mickey’s stomach. The awe of Ian’s courage only reminded him he lacked it. Beer in hand, he traced the glass’ rim, avoiding Ian’s warm eyes.   
“Ian, in all seriousness, I’m really happy for you.” Karen danced over to embrace him, adding, “I’d do it too though. And I wouldn’t even need the money to make me.” Falling into the sofa she laughed.   
“Wow, that’s a bit whorish. Even for you.” Mandy raised her lip in disgust. It was rouse for attention that made her dislike Karen more than anything.   
“Whatever, I would totally do it.” She nestled into Lip, smiling sweetly.   
“What would your parents say?” He clearly had not been aware of her situation. Ian looked at the petite blond smiling in his brothers arms. He couldn’t imagine her being so devious. Of course he had heard rumors floating through the high school’s walls, but never really believed any. They seemed almost impossible.   
“Ha! My parents. My mom wouldn’t even notice, probably encourage it. And my dad…” She laughed harder. “He’d kick me out of the house, disown me, the works.” Her cheerful laughs decayed into twisted laughter, until she began silently sobbing. Between sniffles she managed, “He already hates me for not being a virgin. I know he wishes I wasn’t his daughter. Wishes I was someone else.” The already cramped room seemed even smaller.   
Her mascara began running. The silent room spun around her, threatening to give in under her shaking feet. She had never revealed so much, especially not to a bunch of people she hardly knew. People she hardly liked. She could feel the hot blood of embarrassment rush through her veins, pulsing in her cheeks, along with an overwhelming urge to run out into the storm and let the blizzard bury her.   
“Karen, your father’s wrong.” She expected and hoped for Lip’s voice, but it was Ian who spoke. “You’re better than all of that. Really you are.” He laughed, “Yeah you can be pretty twisted at times...” At this Karen laughed through her tears along with him. “…but you use that to your advantage. You know this stupid game you wanted us to play? Had it not been for that, I may not have ever admitted to you all that I’m gay. And if your father doesn’t realize how amazing his daughter is, then it’s his loss.”   
He let out a deep breath, feeling the cold surrounding the little house. Without words she stood up and wrapped her arms around Ian’s muscular body.   
There are several types of hugs. An awkward hug between strangers, where neither person knows exactly where to put their arms, and their body’s fight against each other. A hug between family, one that settles any nerves in your stomach and is full of joy. A hug between reunited friends that surpasses any words of completion either person could hope to utter. A hug between lovers, each person’s body melting into the others. And a hug only a few people will ever receive. It is one a mother gives to the fireman who saved her daughter from a burning building. It is the one a husband gives to the doctor who revives his wife. It is the one a suicidal person gives years later to the person who talked them down the ledge of a bridge.   
It is the one Karen gave to Ian.


	5. Like Father Like Son

“I might have picked the wrong Gallagher.” Karen teased, wiping her eyes. She looked up and gently kissed Ian’s cheek. To his surprise he was not uncomfortable. Karen made her way back to Lip’s side.   
“I’m sorry Karen.” She began to answer but Lip cut her off before she could. “I’ve been a shit boyfriend. You know…with all this shit happening here, with Frank and Fiona. I had to look out for these kids.” He tilted his head towards upstairs, as if Debby, Carl and Liam where there. “That’s no excuse though.”  
Her sweet smile returned, warm and inviting without a threat behind it. Her buried problems had left her crashing against rocks, each impact bruising her pale body. Ian had shown a light into the storm – one that had saved people for decades – guiding her home.  
“It’s ok Lip.”  
“No. No it’s not fucking ok.” Everyone jolted at the unexpected harshness in his voice. “You deserve better than that. You deserve someone who doesn’t only care about themselves and their problems.” His eyes pointed to Ian, though he never directly said anything. He couldn’t understand why his body trembled.   
“I promise I won’t be that person. I won’t be Frank.” He held his hands tightly together in hopes of holding himself together.  
“Is that what this is about?” Mandy’s voice unsettled herself, she had been quiet so long, her own voice seemed out of place.   
“Frank’s a selfish asshole, you’re nothing like him.”  
“Mandy’s right Lip.” Karen weakly smiled at her, apologizing for being so difficult to her. After her story, Mandy realized why Karen had been so harsh. She had been hurt so much that this was her way to keep it from happening again.   
“You can’t be serious?” Ian’s eyebrows angrily buried together. “Lip, you’ve been here for this family all along, every single paycheck you get goes straight to bills and food. For Christ’s sake, you work twice as hard as anyone here. Frank’s never given a shit about any one of us. All he cares about is drinking himself into a coma. You know, I’ve actually seen him steal from us. How can you think you’re like him?”  
“We share the fucking same DNA! No matter what I do there’s no escaping it!” His voice lowered to a whisper. “Remember that night I had gotten drunk and cut my arm open tripping over things?” He barely believed himself as he spoke the words.   
“Yeah, we had to take you to the hospital. There was so much blood.” He did not like where this was going. He had been the one who found Lip lying there amongst empty bottles, drowning in a sea of blood.   
“I lied.”  
Mickey shifted in his chair, feeling more and more like the stranger in the room listening to conversations not made for his ears. He did not know Karen and he barely knew Lip.   
Lip avoided his brother’s glare as he asked, “What do you mean you lied?”   
“That night Frank came over when you guys weren’t here, asking for money. Told him we didn’t have any for him to waste, especially not when the kids would be needing new things for school. He kept saying I was lying, being selfish, holding it for myself.”  
Lip swallowed air as if he did not know if and when he would get another chance.   
“I was fine with all of that until he said he understood why I was doing that.” Mocking his father’s voice, but sounding eerily similar, Lip continued, “‘Always look out for number one right son?’ He laughed and said, ‘like father like son.’ Then he fucking winked at me like I was part of his schemes.” He subconsciously rubbed his scare through his sweater.   
“I couldn’t handle it anymore. Started drinkin’. All I could hear was ‘like father like son’ over and over again. I couldn’t tell if it was my voice repeating it in my head or Frank’s. His DNA runs through my veins with each pump of my heart. I’ve had a lot to drink at this point when an idea comes to me.” His words became slow and further apart. “If his DNA runs through me, all I had to do was…drain it.”  
Ian winced at the idea of his brother harming himself. He closed his eyes to avoid Lip, but all he saw was his pale body lying against the red stained tiles.   
“Are you saying…” Mandy’s voice trailed off but everyone knew what she was thinking.   
Lip nodded his head, his shaggy hair bouncing up and down.   
“It was a dumb idea, I know that now, it’s impossible to get the Gallagher out of me. But I tried, and that should count for something right?” His voice seemed distant and lost.  
He rolled up a sleeve, revealing a raised jagged scare that spread from the base of his wrist to the crease of his elbow. Even after months, it had not quite looked healed. Lip began to wonder if it ever would.   
“No. You’re wrong. Yeah you got stuck with a shitty dad who doesn’t give a shit about anybody except himself and anything except his drink, but you get to choose who you become. You’re not Frank.” Karen reached out and stroked his face. “This blood that runs in you is yours alone.”


	6. Mandy

Something strange built up in Mandy's chest threatening to overflow. She never thought of herself as slowly becoming her father. In fact her hatred towards Terry kept her from keeping any habits that's she believed resembled him in the slightest. She thought of Lip trying to physical cut out his dad from within him and let out a bitter laugh. She was knew better than to do something so absurd to herself. If anyone deserved to be stabbed it was Terry. He was the cause of the trouble, not her.   
Ian had leaned over but she barely noticed. "Hey Mands, maybe you shouldn't be laughing at what just happened."   
The whole room was staring back at her, confused faces warped by darkness.   
"Do you think this shits funny? He could have died!" Karen's lips trembled as she spoke, imagining a life without Lip. Never running her fingers through his bushy brown hair or screaming under the L as it passed. The thought overwhelmed her mind.   
"No. Not funny, I'm not heartless. It's just stupid." Her voice lacked any sympathy and the group felt pricked by her harsh words.   
"Oh ok, so it's stupid that he almost died? Oh yeah I get it now." Her hands hung by her side, clenched into fists.   
"Shit Mandy, what the hell?" His sister's display shocked even Mickey.   
"I have a shitty dad too! Ok but you don't see me doing something as stupid as that! It solves nothing!"   
Lip's face grew red in anger, veins visible through his skin. "I never fucking said I was proud of it! Do you think I fucking like looking at this, this hideous thing!"   
The scar raised and dropped like a mountain range running through the valley of his arm.   
His glossy eyes evoked a resemblance of pity in Mandy. Maybe she had been too hard on him. Regardless, she just could not sit by silently while the wrong person paid for irreversible actions.   
"You wouldn't understand anyways." His words were a dagger that pierced through her thin skin,   
she could almost feel the blood dripping.   
"Don't fucking tell me I don't understand. I know all about abusive fathers!" Her words rolled off her tongue, too late to reel them in.   
Ian quickly turned towards her with concern in his eyes. "What do you mean?"   
Once before Mandy had come to him crying. Between sobs he managed to make out that she was pregnant, but wouldn't say names. At the time he figured it was a boy from school, maybe even from the neighborhood. But it was more than an unwanted pregnancy; he had never seen her so upset.   
When he was a child Ian had fallen from a tree, breaking an arm. He had missed the branch he reached out for and lost his balance. The fall itself was peaceful, almost like flying. The warm summer air rushed around him as he watched the roof turn into the front porch and then into the hard ground. With a loud snap his arm fractured. A rush of heat, hotter than the air, fled through his body and pulsed where it had broken.   
When he realized who had actually hurt Mandy, it hit him harder than that fall ever could.   
"I don't want to talk about this." Mandy stormed up the stairs, so familiar with the Gallagher house she relied on memory to reach Ian's room in the dark. She flung herself onto Ian’s bed, one she spent many nights in, and began to cry.   
A few moments later the door slowly opened followed by the soft glow of a candle, probably one of the Gallaghers, Mandy thought.   
"I had no idea." The familiar voice was neither Ian or Lip, but belonged to Mickey.   
Mickey Milkovich, the notorious neighborhood thug with "fuck u-up" tattooed across his knuckles, walked slowly over to his crying sister and placed the same knuckles under her eyes to dry her tears.   
The next words out of his mouth surprised her more than what he had just done. She expected him to demand why she never told him, or why she did not stop it. She expected something that blamed her for what had happened to her. After all, she began to think, there must have been something I could have done.   
"I…” He stumbled over the words, “I'm sorry I never stopped him." He looked down, the way a child avoids the disapproving stare of a disappointed parent. “I was…I was scared. Scared because…”   
His apology had been enough. “You don’t need to explain ok.”   
“No it’s not ok Mandy. I was scared because of what he would do to me. I was being fucking selfish.” He turned away from her completely and wiped a stray tear from his eye.   
She replayed his words over in her head, carefully tracing his meaning. “Wait. Are you sayin’ you knew what he was doing?” Anger replaced any hope she had for their relationship.  
“No, I would have fuckin’ stopped that shit. But I’m sorry I never picked up on it.” His words were harsh then gradually became slow and careful.   
“I never gave you any hints.” Mandy hung her head in shame.   
His anger grew again, “No! It’s not your fuckin’ fault Mandy. I could’ve done more.” He ran his thumb over his lips in thought. “This is my fault, I’m supposed to fucking protect you, you know.”  
Every muscle in her stiffened. He sounded just like Lip, blaming himself for the mistakes of someone else. It made no sense, and was completely unfair that innocent people lived in continuous guilt while the actual offender continued their life as if nothing was wrong.   
In her eyes the only one at fault was Terry.   
“Both of you are fuckin’ stupid.” She rolled her eyes and buried herself deeper into Ian’s sheets.   
“What the fuck? I’m fucking apologizing and now you’re callin’ me stupid?” His eyebrows rose with every emphasis of a word.   
“Yes! You and Lip! Neither of you realize it’s not your fault. It’s all Terry. And he needs to pay.”  
He raised his hands in protest, “Woah what’re you suggesting here?”   
“Nothing douche bag, I’m not trying to end up in prison. I am not Terry. I just hope you know I don’t hold this against you.” She smiled and brought her brother in for a hug. Mickey pulled her under his arm.   
“Alright this is gettin’ fucking gross.” Like when they were children, he instinctively ran a closed fist over the top of Mandy’s head, messing up her hair.   
“What the fuck?” But there was no resent in her voice, only relief. She had finally gotten this weight off her chest.   
“Ready to head back out there?”   
It always surprised Mandy how caring her older brother could be. Especially when he worked so hard to be anything but that.   
“Yeah, I’m ready.”   
Together they walked down the stairs into the light of the Gallaher’s living room. 

Ian hunched over, hands clasped tightly together, waiting for the milkovichs to return. His worried brow resembled that of a parent in an emergency room. He impatiently tapped his foot against the hard floor and counted the seconds as they ticked by. With each passing one, his anger grew. Flashes of Terry ran through his head.   
He pushed away thoughts of him hurting Mandy and redirected his energy on rescuing her. She could stay with me, he thought. He imagined her thin body gently resting against his as they lay in his bed as they had many times before. She would be safe with me.   
His thoughts drifted until he found himself thinking of Mickey. He pictured him pressed into himself, Mickey’s head resting on his shoulder. Even though he loved both of the Milkovichs, the images in his mind were far from the other. He would lean his head down and brush his lips against Mickey's slowly and quickly building up to a passionate kiss. His tattooed hands would run along the side of his body, memorizing each dip and curve.   
Bliss turned into panic when he realized Mickey had been living under the same roof as Terry. Had Mickey been subjected to abuse also? His mind raced around the question. He had run after Mandy, maybe to tell her she was not alone in the situation.   
Ian tried hard to remember Mickey’s body. Had there been any unusual bruises or scars? Anything that seemed out of place? His mind, miles ahead of him, continued to imagine horrible scenarios. If they were true, he had to stop them. If there weren’t, he would make sure they would never happen.   
Putting some of Ian’s fears to rest Mandy and Mickey descended down the staircase. He quickly looked the two over, squinting in the dark. They looked relatively normal, save Mandy’s running mascara. Wait, he thought, had Mickey been crying? As he approached, a hint of red in his eyes became visible. Maybe his suspicions had been right.   
Mandy plopped down besides Ian as if the last half hour did not happen.   
“Lip, I’m not changing my mind. But, I’m sorry for downplaying what you’ve been through. That was fucked up of me.” She cautiously reached over and looked up into his eyes, asking for permission. With a silent nod he rolled up his sleeve. No one spoke while Mandy traced his dormant scar with her painted fingernails.   
“Mandy, we can’t just leave you there. You need to stay with me. With us.” Ian gestured to himself and Lip.   
For a long time she had thought about leaving. Living at the Gallaghers’ had crossed her mind many times, nights where she could not sleep.   
“There’s enough fuckin’ people in this house as it is.” She looked over to the pile of Liam’s bottles, Carl’s toys, Debbie’s play makeup, and a mix of theirs and Fiona’s bottles. “Too many fucking mouths to feed as it is. I can’t ask you to do that. Not just for me.”  
“You’ve got a job?” It had been the first time Lip had spoken to her since their argument and it had caught her off guard.  
“Yeah. Why?” Where is he going with this, she thought.  
“Gallaghers pull their own weight.” The right side of his lip pulled up into a soft smile.   
Gallaghers. Mickey’s stomach lunged. Where does that leave me, he thought.


	7. Half Brother

Outside the wind swirled snow around in a frantic dance beating against the small house’s door. To those lucky enough to still have power, news casters reported degrees reaching well below the negatives and winds at ten miles an hour.   
The Gallagher house, without heating, felt just the same. To keep from freezing, Mandy and Ian had brought down a few large blankets. At the request of Karen and Lip the group threw together a make shift fort.   
Under the darkness and surrounded by candles, pillows, and blankets there was a sense of childhood that most of them were never given a real chance to experience before.   
Lip twirled pieces of Karen’s blonde hair between his fingers. After all that had happened, admitting things he promised he never would, he finally felt comforted.   
From across the way Mickey looked over Ian’s freckled face and smiled, turning in time for Ian to only catch a glimpse.   
As Lip played with her hair a question began forming in her mind. “Ian? Have you ever felt the same way as Lip before? You know about Frank.”   
Noticeably uncomfortable with the question, his eyes shot up. “No.”  
Mistaking his quick reaction for intrigue, she pushed him further. “Not even once?”  
“I said no didn’t I?” Ian snapped back, sharper than his last response.   
Hearing his brother’s tone, Lip immediately defended his girlfriend. “Hey. Don’t talk to her like that ok. It’s been a rough night.”   
“Whatever.” Ian rolled his eyes as he spoke and taking a candle, left the small covering of blankets. In the kitchen he kicked the refrigerator. The sound reverberated throughout the house and startled everyone.   
Lip continued to console his girlfriend, apologizing for his rude behavior. Mandy and Mickey shot glances at each other. After living with someone for so long, communication does not always need words.   
Should I go check him? Mandy’s eyes asked.  
A quick nod from Mickey, Go now.   
She excused herself without a word and walked into the dark kitchen. “Ian what’s going on?” He sat at the table cradling his head in his hands, looking rather pale in the small glow of the dying candle.   
Under the fort Mickey cracked his knuckles. He replayed Karen’s question over and over, trying to figure what startled Ian. Have you ever felt the same way as Lip before? You know about Frank. Maybe he actually had, he thought. The base of Lip’s scare could be seen, ridged as ever, and suddenly Mickey could hardly breathe. Had Ian done something like that before?  
Noticing him staring, Lip quickly rolled his sleeve past his scar, and then returned to speculating with Karen.   
“I didn’t mean to upset him. Maybe he’s hiding something.” Karen’s voice hardly counted as a whisper.   
“Don’t know, maybe. If so hopefully Mandy will yell at him too, like she did to me.”  
The two started laughing loudly. “What do you think Mickey?”  
He couldn’t stand them laughing at Ian and whatever was hurting him. “You wanna know what I think?”   
Karen nodded in response.   
“I think both o’ ya need to shut the fuck up.” Leaving Lip wide eyed and Karen jaw dropped, he swaggered up the stairs into the bathroom and lit a cigarette. 

Mandy wrapped an arm around his shoulder and begged, “Please Ian.”  
Harshly he jerked out of her embrace, “It’s fuckin’ nothing. Ok.” He buried his head in his hands again, pushing his red hair up with them.   
“You don’t get to treat me like that. I’m not a tool. You forgetting that I opened up in front of everyone? Shit face, can’t even talk to me, I’m your fuckin’ best friend!” Angrily she got up, about to leave, when Ian grabbed her arm.  
“I’m sorry Mandy. You deserve better than that. It’s just, it’s just. Ok look, I have felt like that. I was terrified of becoming Frank. I’ve hoped for so long he wasn’t even my father. I think all of us wish that. But I mean we don’t even fucking look alike. So one day, I stupidly go down to get it checked.” He emphasized stupidly, still regretting his decision.   
Mandy glared at him confused, trying to process his words.  
“A DNA test.” He explained.   
“Anyway, I forget all about it. Until I get a call a week later saying they’ve got my results. Couldn’t do it over the phone either. So I head down there and…” His voice trailed off into the emoty kitchen.   
“What? What it’d say?” She demanded, a sense of panic growing in her stomach.   
“Frank’s not my father.” 

Fuck. Fuckin’ Fuck. Mickey paced back and forth through the claustrophobic bathroom. The light of his cigarette was the only thing separating him from the darkness. If Mandy was staying here, where would he stay? He thought about running, nowhere in particular, just away from Terry. Away from Chicago. Away from his own inability to accept himself. Even Juvie would be fuckin’ better than home. He laughed at such a terrible thought. Despite knowing it was a terrible idea, he began dreaming up ways to land back into juvenile hall.   
An even more impossible idea than punching a cop or robbing a convenience store entered his mind. What if the Gallaghers let me stay too? How would he even go about asking that. He came up with a few scenarios, each crashing and burning.   
He imagined they said yes, welcomed him in as they did his sister. Could he live with Ian being that close, but untouchable? In the morning sharing a bathroom, Ian showering a door away. Eating meals together. At night sleeping only a few feet away. So close ‘n so fucking far. 

Mandy’s mind raced a thousand miles an hour, unable to wrap her mind around Ian’s words. As if answering her unspoken question Ian continued.  
“I didn’t know whether to be angry or relieved. But I wanted to find out who my real dad was, just to see. They said it was a close relative, so I went to Frank’s brothers. One of them, Clayton, I don’t know, couldn’t shake this feeling. He looks a lot like me, ginger, freckles, all of it.” He stopped. It was like looking into a mirror and that scared him more than anything. His words had built up speed and left him gasping for air. He stood pressed against the door post trying to catch his breath.  
“Jesus Ian. Does anyone else know?” He hung his head limp and silently shook his head.   
He looked so helpless. Not knowing what else to do Mandy slowly pulled herself into his body, almost too close. His eyes nervously darted back and forth, avoiding her warm eyes. Her soft hands moved from the flaps of his sweater to the side of his neck. For a moment the two stood there with foreheads touching. Ian finally letting go, rested his head on her shoulder, his nose buried into her.   
“You have to tell Lip.”   
He pulled away from her, “Why should I tell him?”   
She searched his eyes. His pupils dominated most of the color she loved so much. “He deserves to know that there’s a chance he’s not Frank’s either.”  
He had not even thought of that. But she was right. After everything he’d been through, Lip deserved to know.   
“Alright, I’ll tell him.”  
Together they walked back into dimly lit room. Mickey, who had returned moments before, looked up at two of his favorite people. “Fuckin’ finally.” His tattooed knuckles relaxed.  
“What the fuck was that all about?” Lip demanded.  
“Frank’s not my dad.” Ian blurted out, uncomfortable with the sound of his own voice.   
“What did you just say?” His eyes widen in shock, disbelief, confusion, jealousy, a whole array of emotions.   
Ian sat down and began retelling the story, the whole room listening in suspense.   
Before Ian had the chance to tell him Frank may not be his dad either, Lip interrupted. “What was he like? Clayton I mean.”  
“Looks a lot like me I guess.” He shrugged, uninterested in his question. He was more focused on shifting the conversation away from himself and towards Lip.   
Lip shook his head. “No, is he like…like Frank?”  
“No. Not at all actually.” Ian laughed at how different two siblings could be. He went on to describe the beautiful suburban house with fancy china, beautiful painting hanging in delicately molded frames. He left out Clayton’s wife, who clearly wanted nothing to with Ian or any of that side of the Gallaghers. “But that’s beside the point.”  
“How? Ian this is your way out.”   
The thought of Ian leaving almost made Mickey sick. “What the fuck you getting’ at? Like fuckin’ leaving this place?”  
Lip waved his hands at the scene before them. “Fuck yeah! Your dad sounds great. Way better than this shithole.”  
Your dad. Ian cringed at the words.   
“No.”   
“What was that?” Lip threw his head up and quickly let it drop, asking for his brother to repeat what he thought he heard.   
“Frank is not my biological father, but this guy isn’t my dad.” He clenched his jaw tight.   
“What do you mean?” Karen asked, careful to avoid further confrontation.   
“I’m not going to live with some stranger and his family. No. You guys are my family. I don’t give a shit if we don’t have the same dad. Fiona, Debbie, Carl, Liam, you…you guys are my family.”  
Lip leaned over, putting an arm around his shoulders.  
“Of course we are.”


	8. Mickey

Ian looked out the window into the black storm. Just this morning when he stumbled out of bed to use the bathroom he had seen small flakes falling silently. How had something so beautiful turn out so destructive?   
As he stared out, he decided not to bring up Lip’s possibly false relationship with Frank. The Gallagher kids, they were all family regardless of biological parents. Lip agreed himself. Of course we are. He turned his brother’s words over in his mind. They would be ok, he thought.   
Just as quick as the storm began, Karen’s words snapped him back to the present. “We haven’t heard a lot from you huh Mick?”  
With his thumb he smeared his lips. “First off, don’t fuckin’ call me that again. I ain’t got no fuckin sob story. I live with Terry too. You all know he’s an asshole. But he’s never done anything to me, if that’s what you’re fuckin’ getting at.”  
Seeing the anger in his eyes, Karen dropped it. She turned to Lip and whispered sweet nothings into his ear. He gave a throaty laugh at his girlfriend, then looked at his dying phone.  
“Jesus Christ.”  
Ian, careful not to wake a sleeping Mandy resting on his shoulder, whispered, “What’s the matter?”  
“It’s already fifteen after twelve.”  
“Shit.” He gently leaned Mandy on a pillow and covered her with the blanket. Noticing the dim room, he went up stairs to look for more light.   
Now that Mandy was a sleep and Ian gone, Karen and Lip nestled into each other. Karen planted small kisses on Lip’s neck leading up to his lips.  
“You two shitheads think I’m not fuckin here?” For some reason it seemed, he was the only single person here, and seeing couples was off putting when it was all he really wanted. He longed for Ian’s lips on his neck and of course he would return the favor. He imagined how sweet he would taste.   
Having enough of his attitude, Lip turned to Mickey. “If you don’t like it, leave.”  
Filled with dissent, Mickey spoke, “Fuck off.” Getting up he stuck two fingers up. The last the couple saw was the upside down “C” and dash of his tattoo.   
Mickey headed up the stairs and lit another cigarette.   
Ian was searching his room for more candles, flashlights, anything to keep the room alive when Mickey stumbled through the door.   
“Shit man. You scared me.” The small lighter he used to see flicked off.  
Lying into the darkness, Mickey apologized. “My bad, lookin’ for the bathroom.”   
Ian fumbled with the lighter, trying hard to reignite it. When he finally did he saw the silhouette of Mickey leaving.   
“Mickey, do you need a place to stay too?”  
He pivoted on his heel to catch a glimpse of the red head. “The fuck you gettin’ at Gallagher?”   
Avoiding looking directly at Mickey, as not to scare him off, Ian tripped over his words. “I don’t know, I just…I don’t want…”  
Suddenly angry, Mickey shouted. “I don’t fuckin’ need this.” He turned his back towards him and headed out the door, knowing he might have blown his only chance of having an actual family.   
He felt a strong hand press into his shoulder, stopping him where he stood.  
Ian softly whispered, “Please.”  
In the dark he felt safe, hidden away from people like Terry. Hidden from his own fears, he became himself.  
Mickey brought his body close to Ian and let himself be swallowed into their kiss. His tattooed hands wrapped around Ian’s neck. Ian mirrored his action, leaving a free hand to explore Mickey’s back.   
Making up for lost time, Mickey hungrily kissed him. Their mouths, in an intricate pattern, danced.  
Ian closed any remaining space between them, afraid that any second Mickey might slip away or that he would wake up.   
Tripping over various items scattered around the boys’ room they fell onto Ian’s bed.  
Mickey, finally breaking their kiss, looked at the figure beneath him. So close ‘n so fucking far. In reassurance, he reached down to touch his face, relieved when he found pulsing blood near the surface of his solid flesh.  
He brought his lips back to Ian’s.   
Their first kiss had essentially been the same, but neither of them knew that. All the same butterflies where still there. Their lips were charged with the same electricity they felt when they first met. Neither could hear anything but their beating hearts.   
The only real difference was Mickey. Before his muscles had been tense and he had been afraid to drape his hands around him. So close and so far.   
This time he sank into the kiss, his muscles becoming liquid under Ian’s touch. His hands wandered lower and lower down Mickey’s stomach, fumbling with the zipper.   
Suddenly reality hit and the crippling fear returned.   
Mickey rolled himself off of Ian, breathless, and nervously muttered, “I gotta go.”  
Confused, Ian demanded, “Why? What’s wrong?”  
Sounding like his father, Mickey yelled, “This.” He motioned between them. “This is wrong.”   
Tired of that argument Ian yelled, “We’ve got nothing to be ashamed of!”  
We. The word burned a whole in his mind. He had longed to be a “we” with Ian, but it was impossible. There were too many obstacles. Too many Terry’s in the world, and even worse: the actually Terry, a prison convict not afraid to beat up his own son for who he was. It was not even his father’s approval he searched for. No, it was only survival. If he came out of hiding, he would be killed. We’ve got nothing to be ashamed of. Ian’s words seemed silly, so simple and he angrily laughed.   
“What fuckin’ world do you think we live in Gallagher? This isn’t just about pride. This is real life where bad things happen to people like us.” People like us. Already he was becoming too attached to Ian.   
More perceptive than he had thought, Ian asked, “Mickey, who are you so afraid of?”  
“Don’t act like you ain’t fucking scared either, acting like Mandy was your girlfriend.  
Wanna explain that Gallagher? Huh?”  
Ian hadn’t realized how much that had bothered him, in fact he never even thought of Mickey caring about it at all. He did not even think Mickey Milkovich ever paid any attention to him. His earlier comment focused and became clear. Mickey lo…at least likes me.   
For most people that would have been obvious by the second kiss, especially one like they shared, but for Ian he had barely figured it out.   
Something changed. Holding back tears Ian yelled at him. “That’s not fair. I’ve come to terms with who I am, and you need to too. Or else you’re living a fucking lie.” It was not easy for him to admit he was gay, but once he had he finally could breathe.  
Never being the kind of person to do what others told him, Mickey automatically had a problem with Ian’s demand. “What do you think we are, this isn’t boyfriend girlfriend here. You don’t getta tell me what to do.”   
Before storming out of Ian’s room, Mickey wiped the kiss off of his lips and threw it hard to the ground.   
They both heard the loud snap of Ian’s heart, but Mickey used all of his energy to ignore it.   
Not wanting to go back downstairs to face the others, he shut himself in the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Someone had left a candle there, probably Karen or Lip he thought. He looked at the reflection in the dirty mirror. A stranger peered back at him. His skin looked unusually pale, even for him, and the beginning of dark circles formed under his tired eyes. Fuck this shit.   
He paced around the small bathroom and tried to organize all the events that just transpired. Going up the stairs. Lying about being lost. Arguing with Ian. Kissing Ian. Arguing again and storming out. Kissing Ian. What the fuck happened.  
He leaned back against the porcelain sink, shoulders hunched. He slowly looked up into the mirror. The reflection was the same, a pale hollow silhouette.   
He imagined himself walking back into Ian’s room. What the fuck would I say? Sorry I’m scared of my abusive dad. He laughed at the stupidity. It was the truth, but it still somehow seemed like an excuse.   
Sick of the mirror’s reflection, he smashed it with his closed fist. It shattered in pieces and some nicked his flesh, causing it to bleed.   
In a twisted way it felt good. He began to understand why Lip had done what he did.  
Surrounded by darkness Ian stood alone. Wondering what he did wrong, what had he done to make Mickey leave him. He heard what sounded like glass shattering and went to inspect.   
He found a bleeding Mickey sitting on his bathroom floor.   
How could something so wonderful become so terrible so quickly.


	9. Coming Out

“Jesus Mick, what happened? Your hands are covered in blood.”   
Mickey, numb from the alcohol, had not realized how much his hand had been bleeding. “Hit the mirror.” He tilted his head back to the shattered glass.   
Ian ignored the lack of detail in his explanation, and instead began applying pressure to the open wound. He was thankful for his skills he learned in ROTC training, they were finally paying off.   
“Fuck.” Mickey squirmed beneath Ian’s hands, the pain finally registering.  
“Sit still. You’re making it harder.” He tried to sound as relaxed as possible. He learned that from the many times he had bandaged Debbie, Carl, and Liam.   
Mickey would not be the first to apologize for their argument. Both knowing this, Ian began. “Back there, I was out of line. I still believe you need to stop lying to yourself, but I never found out why you do.” He occasionally looked up, gauging his reaction.   
“Fuck you. Stop thinking you know what’s fucking best for me.”  
Ian could not believe what he just heard. At this very moment he was cleaning his wounds. All he’s ever cared about was what was best for Mickey.   
“You know you can tell me.”   
“I said fuck off.” He immediately regretted being so harsh with the only person who would ever care enough to clean him up. Regardless, he could not seem to stop.  
Ian’s blood boiled and ran through his veins. The cool air hitting his warm skin simulated a fever, a wave of chills across his body.   
“I have problems too, but you invited me into yours when you fucking kissed me and then just left out of nowhere!”   
“Fuck you was what you were invited into.” He clenches his jaw as Ian pours alcohol on his cut. Mickey could have sworn he did it on purpose, Ian’s slight smile did not disprove his theory either.   
The only words they spoke after were the few fuck’s and shit’s from Mickey and the occasional sorry from Ian.  
He worked feverishly, only stopping when Mickey could not stand it anymore.   
As he worked, Mickey imagined himself admitting everything to Ian. Admitting he was gay, admitting he was afraid. Gay. Jesus, Terry would kill me.   
He imagined telling Terry. Dad, I’m gay. That’s how kids did it in movies. If they were lucky their parents would only yell at them, maybe kick them out. If they were even luckier, their parents would hug them, saying things like, we love you son.   
But Mickey was not lucky.   
Dad, I’m gay. A big ol’ mo. Without missing a beat, Terry would swing a punch. Of course, he would think and then duck, escaping the blow. Then another from Terry. He imagined himself swing back this time, landing on Terry’s angry face. Another punch, Terry’s, would land on his ribs, a loud snapping sound reverberating through the room.   
“Fuck!” A sharp burst of pain struck Mickey, but not in the ribs where he had expected. He had almost forgotten about Ian and the rubbing alcohol.   
Ian, stifling laughter, apologized. “Wasn’t sure you were still here.” So he was doing it on purpose, Mickey thought.  
“Fuck off.” Mickey could not help but laugh. Ian’s smile was infectious and he could not escape it.   
“Alright, I’m done here.” He gently pat the bandage around Mickey’s hand. He stood up and headed for the door, followed by Mickey.   
Out in the hallway he noticed the sudden stop of Mickey’s footsteps. “What’s up?”  
Standing in the doorway, Mickey motioned him back into the small bathroom. Of course Ian spun around and followed, interested in what he wanted.  
His voice shook, but he managed, “Terry…Terry’s an ass.”  
Ian was about to stop him when Mickey held his hands up, “Let me finish.” He nodded, giving him the floor.   
“If he ever found out about us, about me, he’d…I don’t fucking know. He’s hurt mandy and I know he’s not afraid to hurt me.” His glossy eyes threatened to poor over.   
Ian finally understood. Mickey is not a coward, but he does have a reason to be scared. He placed a hand on his shoulder, “Shit Mick. I’m sorry. Why didn’t you tell me.”  
Ashamed, Mickey cradled his face in his hands. “Didn’t want you to think I was a pussy or some shit.”  
Ian laughed at the idea of Mickey Milkovich, the toughest guy in the neighborhood, being weak.   
“What the fuck’s so funny?”   
He blew air from his nose, “Nothin’.” A smile crept up his face.   
Catching Mickey off gaurd, Ian leaned into him, their lips meeting. For a while, there was no Terry, no fear, no worries. Just them. 

Ian finally pulled away, excited about what he considered their new relationship. “What about everyone down there?”  
“What the fuck about them?” Eyes still closed he leaned back in and waited for Ian’s lips to catch his. They did not.   
“This” mimicking Mickey earlier, “This doesn’t work if we’re hiding. I’ve done enough of that already.”  
Mickey huffed, “I can’t deal with this stupid shit right now.” He made note of Ian’s words, realizing he was not the first Ian had kissed, maybe not the first person he had ever loved. Love, Jesus. What is happening to me?  
All the excitement vanished and was replaced by frustration. Ian, not letting Mickey give up so easily, looked him straight in the eye. With less than an inch between their faces, Ian snapped, “Then you’re not free.”  
He let go of the Mickey’s shirt that he had not realized he had been grabbing, and headed down the stairs.   
Mickey stood glaring off into the distance. So close ‘n so fuckin’ far. His breathing became shallow as he thought about Ian’s words. You’re not free. His despair morphed into determination. 

Downstairs Mandy had woken up, but sleep still lingered in her eyes. Ian plopped down next to her. “Hey sleepyhead.” He leaned down and kissed her dull hair then smoothed it over.   
She mumbled what he took for a greeting. Still agitated, he rested his elbows on his knees trying to sort things out.   
Mickey appeared shortly and stopped at the base of the stairs. Unable to bare the pain on Ian’s face he focused on the others in the room. In a loud voice he announced, “Hey, can I get everyone’s attention please.” Everyone turned, intrigued by his sudden show of interest. Ian never broke eye contact.   
Mickey took a deep breath. His legs shook beneath him, threatening to give out. Finally he turned to Ian who sat confused. The same freckles he counted over and over were still there; he could do this.   
“I just want everybody here to know, Im fucking gay.” He waited, expecting the worst.  
Karen cheerfully clapped and walked over to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and exclaimed, “Finally!” She giggled and laid her head on his chest.   
Confused by the hug, he pushed her back enough to see her face, “What do you fucking mean ‘finally’?”   
Not letting him go she laughed, until she realized he was serious. “We all sorta knew Mick.” She quickly corrected herself, “Mickey.”  
He blew air out of his nose at her quick fix, but appreciated the effort. “You can fuckin’ let go now.”   
She smiled and danced back to her boyfriend, who still had not said anything.  
Mickey turned to a now wide awake Mandy, searching for her approval. She smiled, Proud of you. He nodded back. He did not expect this much acceptance.   
A hand reached from the darkness onto his back. Ian. Together they sat, Ian’s arm around him the whole time.  
In a harsh voice Lip called out, “Hey, Mickey”   
Here it comes. Mickey’s body tensed and his heart beat faster.   
“You two shitheads think I’m not fuckin here?” His hard face softened as he laughed.


	10. Memories

“Storm’s lettin’ up.” Lip stood behind Ian who had not noticed his brother’s presence. The winds had finally given the poor beaten house a break.   
“Yeah, yeah guess it is.” Ian nodded, still too in thought to turn to his brother.   
Lip followed his gaze but all he could see out the window was blackness.   
“Whatcha lookin’ at? You know Mickey’s in the kitchen, not out there.” He gave a sharp laugh thinking himself funny.   
But Ian did not laugh. The storm had let up.  
When he had been about seven, there was a blizzard warning. He remembered the first few flakes of snow and tried to catch them on his tongue. Monica, who had been home at the time, was experiencing a high in her condition and helped Ian build a snowman. Together they rolled his torso and head, breathing life into the snow.   
The next morning when he had woken things had changed. The blizzard finally moved into their area and he remembered piles of abandon cars frozen in the streets. He paid little attention to the news until Monica would not let him play outside.   
“Please!” He begged, overcoat on and boots laced up.   
She pointed him to the television, and left him for Frank.   
“Good news! The storm seems to be finally letting up, with reports of decreased winds. For several neighborhoods, electricity returns…” The cheery news caster announced later as a young Ian flipped through channels.   
Finally! He thought. He ran upstairs to grab his mother, hoping to play in the snow again. With his hand already turning the handle, he heard strange noises coming from inside his parent’s bedroom. Fiona, on the peak of teenhood, realized what was going on and quickly snatched her brother from the door.   
“I want to see mom.” Ian whined, his voice almost as high as his sister’s. He reached for the door again only to be slapped on the hand.   
“I said don’t go in there.” Fiona had always been motherly. She always had to be.   
He stuck his tongue out and whispered obscenities under his breath. Remembering that the storm had let up, he put on his coat and headed outside. The sun was out but there was little warmth to her rays. He packed snow and began a new snowman.  
The snow began to flare up, little flakes billowing around him. What Ian had not realized was the storm was not over. Yes it had let up as the anchorman had reported, but it was far from done.   
The small flakes turned into blankets of snow, but by the time he noticed it was too late. He could hardly see the tip of his boots in front of him, let alone the porch.   
“Mom! Mom help me!” His screams where futile, Monica was very much occupied.   
He remembered the cold. The way it stiffened his muscles and left him blinded. This is it, he thought. Even at a young age he recognized death. What little hope he had left melted and he lay down.   
As he closed his eyes he saw a figure of a woman approaching with something around her waist. Mom.

He woke up on the couch wrapped in blankets. “Mom?”  
A voice he had not expected answered, “No dipshit, it’s Fiona.”   
He lowered himself down with a thump. Feelings of thankfulness and disappointment washed over him.   
“Where’s mom?”   
“Monica’s upstairs. You wanna tell me what you’re doing outside in a blizzard.” She eyed him cautiously then handed him hot chocolate, a rare treat.   
His voice broke as he explained what he had heard on the news earlier.   
Fiona rolled her eyes, “’Storm letting up’ doesn’t mean it’s over dummy.” She gave a weary smile and hugged him.   
On her way out she added, “Stay outta trouble.”

Just as it had years back, the storm had let up, but it had not ended. Ian could feel it in his veins.   
“You ok there bud?” Lip’s voice brought him into reality.   
He thought about it for a moment, and finally answered, “No, no I’m not ok.”  
Lip had not expected this. Everything had seemed to be going swimmingly. Ian finally made known the obvious, Mickey came out too, and now they could be together. What could possibly be wrong?   
Karen picked up on their conversation, grabbed Mandy and headed upstairs.  
With the girls gone, Ian had a chance to talk to his brother.   
“Terry,” he began, “Doesn’t know Mickey’s gay. He’s scared of him Lip.”   
It was Lip’s turn to laugh at the thought of Mickey Milkovich as scared. Of course, out of respect, he kept it to a snicker.   
“This is serious Lip.” Ian turned away, heading towards the kitchen, when his brother held his arm.  
“He can stay with us.” Fuck. This house’s gonna look more like an orphanage than it already does. He paused then added, “We’ve already recruited one of the Milkoviches, be rude to split them up.”   
“Really?” Ian had thought he was going to have to ask Lip, not the other way around.   
“You bet bro.” He wrapped an arm over Ian and patted his back. He headed towards the stairs, wondering what Karen and Mandy were doing.   
“Wait.”   
Lip turned on his heels, “Yeah?”  
“What if Terry comes over here lookin’ for them?” There was fear in his shacking voice.   
Lip smiled softly, “Ian, I won’t let him hurt them. They’re family now. Besides, Terry’ll do something stupid and get himself locked back up ‘ventually.”   
Hopefully for good this time.   
“Thanks Lip, for everything. You’re a good brother.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. This is getting gushy.   
At the very same moment Lip thought the same thing, but could not help it. After years of being abandoned, overlooked, and cast aside, it felt good to care about someone who cared for you in a different way that Karen could.   
“You too.” He punched Ian’s arm, hoping that would balance things out. “I’ll get the girls, and uh, someone’s waiting for you.” He tilted his head towards the archway where Mickey stood.   
Lip scaled up the stairs. Making sure he was completely out of sight Ian asked, “How long you been there?”  
Mickey shrugged, “Heard enough. Guess I’m moving into this shithole.” He laughed and let Ian pull him close to kiss the top of his head.   
For now the storm had let up, and they would all deal with it when it returned.


	11. Makeover

“Yeah, yeah I guess it is.” Ian’s low voice carried years of exhaustion. Lip, who dealt with their family’s problems differently, could not recognize it; could not keep hold of the hollow syllables as they drifted from his brother’s lips. He mistook it for simple boredom or maybe even common drowsiness.   
Karen, who began half listening when Lip first spoke, snapped into awareness. She heard the disinterest, but above all she heard the sick mix of sleepless nights and fear that matched her own.   
She fiddled with a metal bottle cap, listening as Ian voice grew louder. “No, no I’m not ok.” In the dark his eyes burned brightly with annoyance. Of course he’s not ok.   
She shook her head at Lip’s ignorance, grabbed Mandy by the arm and quickly scaled the stairs.   
Her feet skimmed the ground as Karen pulled her along. Out of ear distance from the boys, she managed, “You wanna tell me what the fuck this is about?” She eyed the girl in front of her. The candles scattered around the hallway threw shadows around her face leaving hollow areas around her eyes, her cheek bones.   
“They need their space.” She turned heading for the bathroom.   
“Ian and Lip? Why what’s goin’ on?” Mandy’s stomach turned.   
Still walking forward, Karen shrugged. “Don’t know, just know they do. Have you ever gone without that black shit under your eyes?”   
Even though Karen’s question was backhanded, her voice sung so sweetly and smiled so pleasantly that Mandy could not take offense.   
“I happen to like that black shit.” She pushed past her into the bathroom. Karen trailed, bouncing through the hallway.   
Words on the boarder of her lips hung in shock when they walked into the bathroom. For a moment the two stood there peering at the bloodied towels lit by scant candles.   
When Mandy caught enough breath, she stuttered, “Who…whose is this?” Her thoughts raced towards Lip fearing something had happened again.   
Karen was already there. “Lip…but, but he’s fine downstairs.”  
Mandy took a step forward, examining the towels, and saw the broken glass surrounding the bathroom sink. “Mickey.”   
“What?” She walked closer trying to grasp the words that disintegrated in the dark.   
“It was Mickey. Musta’ punched the mirror. Looks like someone helped him clean it up.” She pointed to the poorly stocked first aid kit. Just as their thoughts had been together, they breathed out a sigh of relief.   
Nervously laughing Karen asked, “Is that normal for Mickey?”  
Mandy paused for a moment. Throat dry and sore, she softly spoke. “Yes.”  
Silence drowned out the laughter in the small bathroom. “Mandy, I, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.” She walked towards the outline of Mandy and put her hand on the shoulder she was not sure was there.   
It is interesting how darkness can swallow up whole objects. Dark rooms can conceal thousands of things – things you would never know were there, until you turn on the light.   
“‘s whatever.” She shook off the delicate fingers that anchored her to the floor. She began picking up shards of glass beneath the mirror. Her own distorted reflection caught her eye. Touching the thick makeup lining her sharp eyes she laughed. “Maybe you’re right about this shit.”  
Karen stood behind her and saw the same image and an entirely different one at the same time.   
Mandy roughly cleared her throat, “maybe you can help me, or something.” She held her right arm nervously, letting it the tips of her fingers brush against her hip.   
Laughing, Karen raised an eyebrow. “Is Mandy Milkovich asking for a makeover?”   
“What the fuck you think I’m asking for?” What am I thinking?  
“Sweetie.” She tucked a strand of hair behind Mandy’s ear. Mandy flinched at the closeness and the kindness of the gesture. “Why would you need one?”  
Mandy stared at the broken image. Harshly she started, “First, never call me that.” More gently she finished. “Just look at me. Mirror doesn’t lie now does it.” Her glossy eyes, red from exhaustion, threatened to overflow.   
Through the mirror Karen answered, “No, you’re right it doesn’t. You’re just not seeing it right. See, because what I see is a dedicated sister, and an amazing friend. You know I’ve always wondered what it must be like, having Mickey Milkovich as a brother. I thought, ‘poor bastard who’s stuck with him.’ But you’re doing ten times better than I ever could.”   
Mandy blushed. No one had ever thanked her for her hard work, nonetheless congratulated her on it. She did not know where to start. “Um.” She almost whispered a thank you, but last second changed her mind.   
“There’s nothing special in doing what you have to just to survive.” She bent over and began picking up large pieces of blood stained glass, careful to avoid any eye contact with the pale figure that glowed in the dark.   
Karen chuckled. Mandy’s soft eyes gave her away, whether she admitted to it or not she was thankful for the appreciation. She kneeled beside her and picked up the remaining shards.  
Huddled side by side in the dark all their differences faded away leaving only the common goal: survival.   
“Guess we should be headin’ back down there.” Mandy spoke as she threw the last pieces of her brother’s rage into the small trashcan. “Do you think they’re done?”  
Karen shrugged without saying a word and gestured towards the black hallway.   
Together they quietly descended the stairs. Cautiously they listened for whispers, but found none. Instead they found Ian holding Mickey tightly around the waste then lean down and kiss his slicked back hair.   
She had forgotten how soft Mickey really was and could hardly keep her mouth from hanging open in shock.   
She remembered long ago how Mickey would burst into the house, tears running down his face, shouting for one thing or another – mainly the dripping wounds from rough housing or the newly forming bruises from fighting – but one thing stayed the same. Through every incoherent scream, he always managed to call for their mom.   
“It’s ok darling.” She’d whisper as she hoisted him onto the counter top. Their mother was a kind woman with sparkling eyes that lit up even the worst of days. Though he never said it, they were the reason Terry loved her. They began to fade as his drinking became worse, but never to the children.   
“Shh, shh. Hold still.” She cooed, working diligently to bandage, to ice or to fix whatever was wrong. She would lean down and plant a small kiss on the area and smile – a smile that lived on through Mandy, a smile that her father hated to see after she passed.   
“All better.”  
She would wrap her caring arms around his frail frame and kiss him gently on the head.   
In the darkness she smiled her mother’s smile and knew Mickey would be taken care of.


	12. Us Kids

Mandy cleared her throat loudly and began talking to Karen, giving the boys time remember they were not alone in the creaky house.   
“I’ll have to give them a listen.” She stared at Karen who quickly caught on.   
“Oh, yeah they’re really great.”  
Mickey spun out of Ian’s strong arms and sat on the nearest couch, almost tripping over empty bottle in his panic. He laughed at the difference between the panic he felt now and the one he had felt earlier when he pulled away from Ian’s tender kiss.  
Earlier he had felt the guilt that burns into the mind of a first time criminal. Now it was the common place embarrassment lovers feel when an unknowing guest stumbles into the room. His rosy cheeks burned, but it felt good.   
“Where’s Lip?” Ian’s voice was filled with life.   
The heavy thump of his boots went ahead of his words. “I’m right here.”  
Karen slinked away from Mandy and wrapped herself into her boyfriend’s arms. They whispered sweet nothings loud enough for the rest of the group to hear.   
“Gross man.” Ian chuckled, but let his hand dangle close to Mickey’s armrest. He sat with his palms up and slightly parted.   
Karen stuck her tongue out. “What’s there to do around her?”   
Lip pulled out a small bag filled with something no one could quite make out, but instantly knew what it was regardless.   
Muffled by the already rolled joint between his lips he asked, “Anyone got a lighter?”   
Mickey was the first to pull his out. It was nowhere near what he owed Lip, but it was a start.   
“Thanks man.” Lip took a breath in and sighed as he pushed the smoke out.   
“Hand it over already.” She joked as she reached for it. Pinching it between her thumb and pointer finger she inhaled until her chest lifted. Everyone waited as she held the smoke and finally released.   
Mickey grabbed it before she could take another hit. “Don’t be fucking greedy.”   
She rolled her eyes. “Jesus it’s so fucking quiet.” She reached into her pocket and turned on music from the latest phone available.   
Mickey lifted his head and blew the thick smoke to the ceiling. Seeing Karen’s shiny new toy he jokingly asked, “You steal that?”  
Karen wickedly grinned. “Yes.”   
Mickey roared with laughter. “Imagine that. She steals too. I think she’s a keeper.” He spoke aloud but his comment was clearly directed at Lip. His tense muscles began to relax with each word he spoke, each second that ticked by.   
He passed the shrinking joint to Ian, the warmth of his hand sending electricity throughout his whole body.   
Ian nonchalantly took it from him, took a deep breath, and blew out small circles of the thick smoke into the air.   
“What else can you do with those lips Gallagher?” Before he had time to even process the question, Mickey had caught him by the mouth. His tattooed hands slid along Ian’s frame, starting from his hips until he reached his head and twisted them into his red locks.   
Reluctantly, but necessary, he pulled away. Out of breath he spoke, “It’s Mandy’s turn.”  
Ian, still holding the joint between his fingers, seemed to have forgotten who Mandy was. He sat there in disbelief and utter satisfaction.   
“Alright lover boy, easy.” Mandy plucked the small roll from him. Holding it like a cigarette she took a long drag   
Ian placed his hand in Mickey’s open palm.   
Mickey did not object.   
***  
The alcohol had finally began to catch up with their bodies, and each one of their eyes became heavy with sleep. Everyone but Karen and Lip laid on the floor layered with blankets and pillows.   
Karen had already drifted off to the sound of Lip’s heart beat. Lip himself, with Karen’s warm body against him, and the added heat from the blanket slowly nodded off comfortably.   
Before he sank into a deep sleep he whispered to no one in particular and Mickey at the same time. “Take care of him ok.” His eyes shut. The couple looked peaceful and still as if they were a painting.   
Mickey, still holding Ian’s hand, looked up into his eyes. “I will. I promise.”  
With closed eyes Mandy smiled. She was finally safe. Ian would protect her and Mickey from any harm that would come their way. She uttered something that only Ian could hear. I love you.  
He lowered himself besides her thin body. “I love you too Mandy.”   
Ian also closed his eyes. This was family. None of these kids where related to him, save Lip who barely was, but they would do anything for him, they would congratulate him on his accomplishments, they would pick him up when he messed up. They were his family.   
With Mandy sleeping on his left and Mickey wrapped in his arms, Ian finally let himself truly rest. He let out a finally sigh and was lost in sleep.  
Mickey, the last of the group to doze off, thought about tomorrow. Tonight… yesterday, he corrected himself, had been hectic. Things had gone from good to bad to worse and then amazing. There was something he had not felt in awhile. He spent a good ten minutes trying to pin it. From the way Karen had hugged him when he came out to the way Lip welcomed him into their house to the way Ian leaned down and gently kissed his head. In that second he realized his mother had done that years ago.   
Then it hit him. Love. He only really felt that with his mom. She spent every waking hour focusing on him and Mandy, and when she died he thought he would never feel that ever again.   
Dressed in black at her small funeral, he figured that it had died with her. Terry’s hatred seemed to agree with his thoughts.   
He wondered if tomorrow this thing would stay. Would everyone remember or would they wake up, each in their own beds as if it was all a dream.   
As he turned over his thoughts, Ian’s grasp became tighter around his side. Ian would not let this be another dream.  
They were forever bound together by this one night and no one could ever change that.


End file.
